Picture Perfect
by professionalhatstand
Summary: The goal is not to change your subjects, but for the subject to change the photographer Unknown Shikamaru finds inspiration in the least likely place. Temari finds inner beauty without searching. But through the camera lens they discover something amazing


**Warning: One-shot and OOC**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my plot and writing. **

**Picture Perfect**

_Click! Click! Click!_

The shutters snapped and the lights flashed. "Beautiful, beautiful, give me a little more," Shikamaru suggested enthusiastically. Through the lens a blonde girl danced and posed in front of the camera. Her statuesque body glided with profound grace and fluidity. Her blonde hair, arranged in a high fashion style, shimmered in the lights.

"Use your dress," Shikamaru offered. The girl, against a woodland back round took a hold of her dress before giving the camera the sense of motion as she moved forward, seemingly at a run.

"All right, we've got all that we need," Shikamaru stated before removing his face from behind the camera. "Thank you miss Temari." The girl smiled at him before she walked towards the dressing room. Sighing Shikamaru began to disassemble the set with the help of others. Behind him, other photographers were still taking shots. He grinned and shook his head because Temari never took more than a few minutes to attain the perfect frame.

After he finished, Shikamaru traipsed down to a small diner, and upon entering, he noticed the model Temari already sitting at a table. He took a seat in the far corner of the establishment where a waiter soon attended to him. A few minutes later, Shikamaru glanced up when he heard the sound of someone sitting across from him.

"Are you always this antisocial?" Temari asked before she bit into a portion of a grilled salmon salad and chewing eagerly.

"Hungry?" Shikamaru questioned.

"Modeling rule number one: don't eat before a shoot. You should know that being a photographer and all," Temari explained after swallowing. "Just because I'm a model doesn't mean I don't like food," she told him before picking a piece of chicken off of his plate.

"You know, psychologically speaking, sitting in the corner of a room alone suggest that you are isolating yourself from others or you are uncomfortable exposing vulnerable aspects of yourself," she mentioned while waving a fork in the air.

"Are you suggesting that I am going to become a serial killer?" he inquired incredulously as he pointedly picked up his knife and stabbed it into his chicken with unnecessary force.

"Not all models posses an incredibly low level of intellect," she relied before she took a sip of water.

"Is there any reason you never answer my questions?" he asked annoyed.

"Why do you ask so many questions?" she returned chomping down on more of her salad. Shikamaru opened his mouth to say something but Temari interrupted him. "You know, we should work together more often."

"What?"

"I'm amazing. You're amazing. I'm talented. You're talented. I'm beautiful. You, well you need some help, but all the same we'd be great," she mused. "It was great talking to you. Call me later today about work," she told him confidently as she slapped her card on the table and walked out of the restaurant leaving Shikamaru to pay the bill.

"Troublesome," he muttered as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. After contemplating for a moment, he slipped her card into his pocket.

* * *

Temari sat on her bed cell phone cupped daintily in her palms. The room was dark save the single lamp that emitted a soft glow that cast a gentle light on Temari's pale flawless skin. She looked like any other girl now that the make up had been washed away and her hair, wet from a shower, hung damply around her face.

The numbers 12:01 A.M. glowed ominously on her phone. The pale digits threw a cool beam onto her face, conflicting with the tender yellow light of the lamp. A look of vulnerability passed over her features.

Shikamaru had not called.

* * *

Shikamaru stooped near the edge of a playground were two small children played. He viewed the world through his photographs. The world otherwise was just a mirage. His camera tore away all of the lies and masks to reveal the truth in life. He made the Earth exposed. His camera made the world into his work of art. Capturing a fleeting moment and making it permanent. _Click!_

The boy and girl giggled as they slid down the slide, hair flying freely behind them in an imitation of the wind.

Shikamaru turned, not removing his eye from the viewer, when he heard another person's laughter fill the air.

On a red bridge stood Temari, her blonde hair in four ponytails and face stripped of all artificial colors. Her eyes closed as childlike laughter sounded from her mouth. Birds of all genres gathered around her quacking, cooing, and crying for the pieces of bread in her hands. Some even dared to attempt to snatch bits out of her grasp. In the mass array of feathers, Temari stood there laughing.

She tossed the crumbs into the air much like one would throw rice at a wedding.

_Click!_ Shikamaru, without any thoughts of his action, captured Temari in her instant of openness. He blinked and lowered the camera, shocked at his impulsive act.

Temari caught sight of this movement glanced in his direction. A blush crept into her cheeks, but she ignored it.

Shikamaru raised his hand in greeting as a bead of embarrassment sweat dripped down his temple. Temari nodded in return. She neither invited him to come closer nor demanded him to leave which left the choice utterly up Shikamaru.

Sighing, he turned his back and walked away leaving her alone on the red bridge, birds eating at her feet.

_  
One week later _

Shikamaru stood in his dark room as he developed his pictures. His eyes widened when he found the picture of Temari. He had forgotten that day, one week ago exactly. She appeared more beautiful than she had in any other photo as a model. This picture was Temari.

Temari rushed to the door as a persistent banging sounded loudly. She swung the door open to reveal Shikamaru in sweat pants and a T-shirt, his hair disheveled.

"What the hell are you doing here at seven o' clock in the morning?" she asked incredulously. "Wait no, better yet, how do you know where I live?"

"How was your shower?" he questioned nonchalantly before stepping into her apartment.

Temari looked down and blushed furiously as she remembered that only a short towel cover her moist skin.

"I-I could have a guy here you know," she stammered nervously.

"But you don't," he state firmly before making himself comfortable on the couch and removing the camera from around his neck. "About the proposition you made earlier. I've been thinking," he started.

"At least let me get some clothes on. I've never met someone so obnoxious," she said vehemently. He grinned. "And you obviously haven't showered. You can't just come barging into someone's home smelling like a decaying seal."

"A decaying seal? Really? That's all you come up with?" he returned before standing to find her shower.

Sighing she followed behind him to her room. She slipped clothing on as the shower ran and waited for him on the couch while drinking a glass of orange juice.

After a few minutes he sat across from her in an arm chair looking considerable more presentable.

"So you compliment me, reject me, ignore me, then stalk me?" she questioned amusedly. "This isn't looking so good for you."

Shikamaru was only listening to half of the words coming from Temari's lips because he was intently studying the décor in her home. One picture in particular on the wall stood out to him. The fame contained a picture of cumulous clouds against a setting sun. The clouds embodied the colors of the sunset.

"Where did you get that," Shikamaru asked quietly interrupting Temari.

"What? Why?" she returned.

"Just answer the question," he ordered.

Taken aback at the suddenness of the question and the tone of his voice Temari answered. "I bought it from a gallery about a month ago."

Shikamaru searched his mind. Suddenly, he recalled one day that he had left his gallery in the hands of his employees because he went home early. He deduced they must have sold the picture without telling him.

"It's my favorite," she told him gazing at it tenderly. Her emotion filled voice snapped Shikamaru out of his daze.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, well- on to business," he stated. "I would like you to be muse."

"You mean model?" she question.

"I prefer the term muse. I like to chose my subject. They have to speak to me," he explained.

"And- And I speak to you?" she urged.

"Yes, but not as a model. I want you to me yourself," he told her.

"What do you mean?" she inquired trying to hide her excitement.

"Well," he thought for a moment, "No make-up, no hair styling, and you should eat before the shoot."

"So basically break all the modeling rules," she added.

"You're not a model," he argued.

"Alright, I'll do it," she agreed. "But just know the reason you got me was because you said I could eat beforehand," she teased.

"Do we like shake hands now or something?" he asked standing.

Temari laughed. "I find your social awkwardness quite endearing."

* * *

"Nice place," Temari complimented as she followed Shikamaru into his home. The walls of every room seemed composed of nothing other than photographs.

"You don't like you job do you," she stated more than asked. "Taking pictures of models anyway."

"Why do you say that?" he asked before striding off to his bedroom to change out of his morning attire.

"Because all of your subjects are natural and not doctored," she explained. She followed the frames all around the room and to a door way. "You know these really are a-," her speech stopped when she stepped through the door way.

Shikamaru's black pants hung loosely around his waist and he had just stand to slide of a shirt so his chest and abs were visible. "Amazing," she finished, her mouth hanging open.

Shikamaru turned and looked at her curiously. Temari frantically searched for some way to get the image of Shikamaru out of her mind by glancing around his bedroom. Like the previous room, his bedroom's walls held nothing but his photography. However, the pictures only contained clouds. All types of clouds.

"You," she accused. "You took that picture that is in my apartment." She glared at him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Shikamaru just shrugged. Temari moved further into the room and marveled at the vast amount of colors around her. She felt as if she were floating in the sky. Shikamaru smiled as she laughed innocently. It reminded him again of a child.

"I like clouds," he explained needlessly.

"This is just… well, wow ," she said in awe. "It's as if you allow the viewer to see the subject through your eyes. These pictures are amazing because this is how you see the world from behind a camera. The world is beautiful in your eyes."

"Ready to work?" he questioned straightening his shirt.

"Can you make me look like a cloud?" she inquired, not taking her eyes from the sky before her.

"What?" he replied amusedly.

"Not puffy, but you know, like…" she searched for the words.

"I know," Shikamaru told her, understanding in his voice. "Come on."

* * *

Shikamaru found Temari in the diner where they first met outside of a photo shoot. She sat in his corner eating her salad with grilled salmon.

"Are you always this antisocial?" he mocked before taking a seat. Temari looked up started, but her face soon eased into one of contentment. Shikamaru snatched a bit of salmon from her plate.

"Hungry," she played along.

"I've brought something for you," he announced as he pulled a folder out from behind his back.

"Aw, did ShiShi bring me a present," she mocked.

"Don't call me that," he ordered before opening the folder. She laughed causing him to grin. "You sound like a little girl you know." This comment only encouraged her laughter.

She stopped when she say the photos spread out across the table. In 4x6 images was Temari. No poses, just pure simple Temari.

"I- I look beautiful," she stammered. She looked into his delicate eyes while her own filled with tears. "This is how you see me?" she asked in a voice barely audible to even Shikamaru.

"Yes," he returned just as quietly.

Her lip trembled. "Why- Why are they all black and white?"

"I wanted you to see," he explained. "It's not your face that makes you beautiful," he whispered brushing his fingers along her cheek. "It's your soul." She laughed gently, staring into his eyes.

"Do– Do we like hug now or something?" he asked shyly causing her to laugh once again.

"Yes," she whispered. They both stood but when Shikamaru moved towards her he tripped on the leg of his chair causing him to stumble and their lips to meet. He immediately pulled back; his face flushed and eyes wide.

"Sor-," he began but was silenced by Temari's lips.

**The End **

**The goal is not to change your subjects, but for the subject to change the photographer. ~Author Unknown**

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Please review and tell me what you think! Thank you for reading!


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